


Sparkle

by Tsaiko



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Drinking, Drunk Sex, M/M, Mild Language, Mildly Dubious Consent, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 11:12:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5332073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsaiko/pseuds/Tsaiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duo had only gone through a Peace Day celebration sober once. The fireworks had woken him up in the middle of the night, his hand searching for a gun he no longer carried while scrambling to get into a Gundam he no longer had. Hours later when he'd finally gotten sleep he'd had nightmares of twisted bodies floating through space.</p>
<p>In his opinion that was really the whole point of the holiday. To let morons blow shit up. Some "Peace Day" celebration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparkle

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for PTSD, drunk hand jobs, and dubious consent (since people as drunk as Duo really can't give 100% consent).

Four years after the war, Earth and the colonies declared the day the treaties were signed as an interplanetary holiday. There was a big ceremony. Duo remembered watching the scrolling marquee at the bottom of the screen at the airport. "This day will be forever dedicated to those who lost their lives in the name of peace." They declared in Peace Day.

As soon as he'd heard what was going on, Duo had gone and gotten the biggest bottle of booze a still underage guy could bribe someone to buy, and had gotten drunk. It was something he regretted later when the hangover hit and the morons were _still_ setting off fireworks.

In his opinion that was really the whole point of the holiday. To let morons blow shit up. Some "Peace Day" celebration.

Duo had only gone through a Peace Day celebration sober once. The fireworks had woken him up in the middle of the night, his hand searching for a gun he no longer carried while scrambling to get into a Gundam he no longer had. Hours later when he'd finally gotten sleep he'd had nightmares of twisted bodies floating through space.

After that, once a year, Southern Comfort was his friend.

The problem was he was an angsty drunk when alone. He bitched and moaned and whined and annoyed even himself with his emo ways. He'd even made that long distance call to Quatre -- $4 a minute and the phone company was complaining that it needed to raise the price because they weren't making enough profit? -- which had triggered an impromptu visit from Quatre.

After that Duo decided that he needed to celebrate with company. On Peace Day he got dressed, traveled to the nearest bar where the crowd wasn't too obnoxious, and got falling down drunk. He was a happy and outgoing drunk when he was with people. And just as long as he didn't wind up half naked in some stranger's bed, it was a good arrangement.

Except for night like this where he got himself thrown out of the bar and had to be fished from the gutter by some nice soul. His rescuer was carrying him piggy back style with his arms looped through Duo's leg. Duo was doing his part by draping himself contentedly against his rescuer's back.

"I can't believe he they threw me out just because I tried to dance on that table! I haven't gained that much weight. Faulty workmanship!" The person carrying him flinched, like he was speaking too loud. Which was ridiculous. It was perfectly normal to yell at the top of your lungs after you'd been treated like he had.

"You're going to wake everyone up," said his rescuer.

"Good! That way they can look at the fireworks when they start up. BOOOOOOOOOOOM!" Duo lurched to one side and his rescuer stumbled. He couldn't be sure, but it sounded like there was cursing in some foreign language. "Japanese."

"What?" 

"You speak Japanese," Duo replied. "I knew a guy who spoke Japanese." He pressed his nose to the side of his rescuers neck, inhaling the scent of aftershave and shampoo. "You smell good."

"You're drunk." The words were cold and flat, and made something inside Duo ache.

"Yep. You know, you remind me of a guy. The guy who spoke Japanese. I shot him once and watched him set his own leg after breaking it. He had the fashion sense of sea cucumber," Duo said. "He blew stuff up."

"He sounds like an interesting guy."

"You even sound like him. He was okay. Kind of an asshole at times." That elicited a snort from his rescuer. "But you know what? I kind of liked him. A lot. He had a great ass. Shhhhhh. That's a secret though."

There was a tension in his rescuer that wasn't there before, but Duo was ignoring it. Probably not the best idea he'd ever had, but he didn't care. He was warm. The world was spinning. If he pressed his forehead against his rescuer's shoulders it stopped the headache that was threatening to bloom behind his forehead.

"I apologize if I vomit on your shoes," Duo mumbled. His rescuer responded with a sigh. "We're going to another bar, right?"

"I'm taking you back to my place."

"Oh," Duo said. At least he wouldn't be alone. "That's good. I'm not sure I could find my feet anyway. I think they ran away. Should I look for them?"

"No. They'll come back in the morning."

"You sure?" Duo was doubtful.

"Yes. Now shut up."  
***

The apartment was dark except for the yellow-brown of a streetlight. His rescuer didn't bother with the light switch, preferring to navigate through the dark to the bedroom. Duo was deposited on the bed. The whole room spun.

"Drink this." A glass of water was pushed into his hands. Duo tried to drink it lying down but wound up with it all down his front. This was, of course, enormously funny. His rescuer snatched the glass back and returned with it full. He made Duo sit up to drink it. 

"You are no fun," Duo complained in between gulps of water. He finished that glass and his rescuer brought him another. By the time he finished that one, his stomach was beginning to feel very sloshy.

"I don't have anything that is going to fit you," his rescuer said. The light wasn't good so Duo couldn't make out what he looked like. He might be cute.

"So?"

"You can not sleep in my bed in wet clothes." There was irritation in his voice. Before Duo could respond, deft fingers were undoing the buttons on his jacket.

"I can help," Duo protested. His hands were batted out of the way when he tried to though. He sighed and flopped back, only to be jerked upright so that his rescuer could get his jacket off. The zipper on his shirt was undone and that came off as well.

If he was getting naked, might as well enjoy it. Duo leaned forward and kissed his rescuer. The lips under his were slack and unresponsive for a few seconds. Then he was being pinned to the bed as he was kissed senseless.

"You're drunk." His rescuer sounded like he was trying to convince himself that this was a bad idea. Which sucked. If he wanted this to stop, Duo was quite confident that he could make it stop even when drunk.

"I don't care." He used some tongue this time. 

"I do..." Not quite enough. Duo managed to wiggle one of his hands free, fumbling with the zipper on the jeans his rescuer was wearing. He slid one of his hands into the heat in his pants. 

That convinced his rescuer. "Don't regret this in the morning." Duo hoped he could follow that order. Soon there were hips grinding against his and a mouth of the side of his neck.

Everything kind of blurred together after that. Duo didn't think that they went all the way. For one thing, his pants were still on. But his rescuer was doing something with his hand that made Duo's toes curl and his hips move of their own accord. When he came a few minutes later it was with Heero's name on his lips.

"I'm sorry," Duo said once he got his breath back. "I'm sorry." His face was wet and he wondered if he was crying. Last time he'd slipped up Duo had gotten kicked out at 4am in the morning. He didn't want to spend tonight alone. "I'm sorry."

"Idiot." This was embarrassing. He was crying, huge wracking sobs that shook his entire body. His rescuer was pulling him close, pressing his face against his shoulder. "Go to sleep."

"Sorry," Duo mumbled again. He really should return the favor -- one didn't just leave a guy hanging after he'd given you a hand job like that -- but even holding his eyes open seemed to require too much effort.

"Sleep," his rescuer repeated. So Duo did.

***

He woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of explosions outside the room. Duo's first though was to find his gun and then find his Gundam. There was nothing under his pillow. Someone grabbed him and Duo nearly broke his or her wrist in an effort to get away.

"Duo!" Instinct told him to break away even as his mind placed the voice. He was being held against the bed by sheer strength alone. "Duo, stop it. You're all right."

"Heero?" Part of his was telling him it wasn't Heero and that the war was over. That he'd moved on. Another part was yelling at him that he was still in the middle of battle, and that something was blowing up, so if he wanted to live he needed to get his ass in gear. "I heard explosions."

At that moment, the window rattled and bright green sparkles flooded the room. Duo jumped. He could hear Heero grind his teeth above him as he struggled to keep Duo from moving. "Those are just fireworks."

"Bull shit. Let me go. I don't want to die lying in bed with the ceiling falling on me," Duo snapped.

"You'd rather die laughing your head off on the battle field, you idiot," Heero growled. That didn't sound right. Heero didn't care about him. Did he?

"What do you care?" Duo snapped. Another explosion and red light bled through the window. Adrenaline was making him shaky, was causing his heart to race and his head to pound. "Fucker. Let me go."

"What's the Cormick drag coefficient for an asteroid with diameter of 1m and an average density of 2.6 g/cm3?" Heero asked. Duo stared at him the dark.

"Stuff is blowing up outside and you want me to calculate the Cormick drag coefficient?" Duo wondered if he sounded as incredulous as he was.

"A Gundam pilot should be able to do these calculations even in the middle of the battlefield," Heero said. "What is the Cormick drag coefficient?"

"Damn perfect soldier," Duo muttered. Another explosion his, closer this time, in a wash of pale white. He jerked. "Um... it's a high density asteroid so the Cormick coefficient would be 1.83."

"What if it was 2m in diameter?" Heero asked.

"Heero, you could do these damn calculations in your head faster than I could with a calculator. They have charts for this shit."

"The diameter is 2m." Resolute and unmoving. Duo wished he had a hand free to punch him.

"Fine. It's 1.97."

They went through a dozen, maybe two-dozen, calculations: Heero calling out sizes and densities while Duo called out the coefficients. During that time the explosions stopped. Heero shifted off of Duo, but not too far. He was a line of warmth pressed up against his side. Duo yawned twice before Heero called it off.

"Go to sleep."

"What if the explosions start again?" Duo asked. He was half way asleep to begin with, but stubbornness kept him awake.

"I'll be here," Heero said.

***

Duo always hated the morning after. It was awkward and stressful and he usually had a hangover. Like now.

Sunlight was spilling through the blinds in strips of yellow-white, drilling into eyes. He scrubbed at the grittiness in them. The film that had formed in his mouth tasted vile. There was a low grade headache pulsing behind his eyes.

Overall, it wasn't bad as far as hangovers went. It took exactly 2.3 seconds for him to remember someone making him drink a glass of water. A half second later, and Duo remember the rest of last night.

Shit.

"You're awake." Duo looked up in time to see Heero, _Heero,_ walking through the bedroom door. "You should have been up two hours ago."

"Nice to see you too." Duo pushed the sheet down, then pulled it up again. Where were his pants? He could have this conversation if he just had his pants. "I need to pee."

"You were drinking?" Heero said. Duo glared. 

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why do you care?" Duo snapped. Then he felt all his anger drain out of him, like someone had pulled the plug. "I only get drunk on Peace Day. I get nightmares."

"Flash backs," Heero said. Then he looked away from Duo. "I get them too."

Silence. 

"What now?" Duo asked. "It's been... years. No one has seen you. You just disappeared. Then you show up out of nowhere. I mean, thanks for fishing me out of the gutter and making sure that I didn't go crazy and kill anything, but I'm kind of at a loss."

"I came back," Heero said. _Thanks Mr. Obvious._ "I had to work some things out."

"What kind of things?" Duo asked.

"Things." Cold and flat and resolute; Heero hadn't changed at all. "There's breakfast if you feel up to it."

Which didn't answer Duo's questions at all. But for some reason, Duo felt better than he had in a long time. Breakfast wasn't sounding too bad after all.

But first, he had to find his pants.

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a request for Gundam Wing fanfic from the now defunct snail_mail_porn community. The request was that it be 1x2, set after Endless Waltz, and contain the word "sparkle" (blink and you miss it). Requirements for the monthly community challenge said it had to include fireworks. This was written in October 2005, and I'd been out of the GW fandom for about 3 yrs at that point. So any mistakes can probably be attributed to that. 
> 
> The fanfic differs slightly from the version that was posted on my website and in other archives due to some slight editing to fix grammatical/spelling errors.


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